Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nauru and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Marc Almond to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
Zero Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ten City,
Pierre Henry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crash Course in Science,
June of 44,
Animal Collective,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Reagan Youth,
Visage,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Warsaw,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Graham Central Station,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxy Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anthony Braxton,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arthur Verocai,
Boredoms,
Alphaville,
Crooked Eye,
The Slackers,
Swell Maps,
Cal Tjader,
Heaven 17,
Toni Rubio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Morten Harket,
Yaz,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
Echospace,
D'Angelo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Byron Stingily,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Urselle,
Underground Resistance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wire,
Josef K,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Flag,
The Cure,
The Names,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.